The List: 28 Feb 1992 (Issue 169)

It is difﬁcult to helieye that Scottish ()pera‘s current Billy Budd is a rcyiyal ol'a production first and last seen as long ago as 1987. ()t‘all the new productions unyeilcd in recent years. this is possibly the most memorable. the most atlecting and. now that it's the years later. the most faithfully reyiyed. (iraham \"ick may haye caUsed sortie controy ersy \\ hen he \\ as director ol‘ productions. but many line results came from his time with Scottish Opera. [is en it Bil/y Budd was the only fruit in his legacy to the company . it is proot that he is one of the best directors around. In its reyiyal by Paul Malone}. Vick‘s Billy li’udt/ ltas lost none ol'its ptm er and is perhaps ey en sharpened by art ideal cast and superb musical direction from Richard Armstrong. who takes oyer trom John Mauceri as the company's lull-time Musical Director nest year. Britten‘s rctellingol I lerman

Mels ille's talc otthe al'lairs aboard the [min/nimble the year betorc the French Resolution is one w hich disturbs. upsets and questions.

()1 the three main characters. ('laggart. the depray ed master-at-arms and piyotal figure for the opera‘s complex issues — post er. authority. homosexuality. good. eyil -- was played by the Israeli-born (iidon Saks. making his Britiin debut and supposedly sultering from throat problems. 11 last Wednesday 'sopening night pcrlormancc at (ilasgoyy 's'l‘lteatrc Royal says Saks on art oil-night.l

cannot wait to hear him in

top form. In the title role.

' Simon Keenlyside \\ as

\y'tilithl'IllIly cony incing.

as u as Nigel Robson 1 playingthepartol‘

L

(‘aptain Vere. Stnaller roles and the all-male chorus contribute similar c\cclIcttcc to make this strong stull indeed. ((‘arol Main)

32‘l‘he list 28 l’ebruary - 12 March 1992

Theatre Royal. (ilasgoyy.

KITH AND KIN

Music Box, Edinburgh, 18 Feb. Snow outside, but we’re rocking indoors tonight with Edinburgh’s liddling siblings, Celtic-punk sextet Pure Blind Panic. Ragamutlins, they are one at the most energetic bands around; hook-laden numbers like ‘Wide World' mix Poguetry and Waterboyishness to relentless, charged ettect. Fronted by the able, enthusiastic Heather Syme, PBP have a taithiul local lollowing - purchasers ol patchouli and Doc Martens to a (wo)man—which, like their musical prowess, grows with the seasons. impressive.

Kith And Kin (lormerly an ex-Swamptrash/Critterhill Varmints Lothian melee) have a new logo—

squatting Buddha in baseball gloves- two new sax players and a new lease at tile. The technically impressive six-piece now preler Bermuda shorts and international dance-beats to overworn, countrilied Mike Scottisms. They open enigmatically with

5 didgery-doo and space-guitar f harmonics. Shite, David Sylvian’s

come back lrom Tokyo to haunt us!

' Spooky! Butwait. . .

Funked up via their keen horn section where they once were bogged down with lolkisms, K&K now mean business where they once meant nothing much.

and ska in theirveins too, and they play both with aplomb behind a pallid mainman, adroit ol voice. Their eclectic, well-arranged tunes go down well. All the ‘celebs’ are in—the Crows’ (or, ahem, Wild Spirit) bassist rubs shoulders with Better Ways' head-yodeller— amidst a lair turnout tor a cold Tuesday night. And Kith And Kin deliver. Occasionally, their pop is lukewarm: a song to which they insist we ‘hand jive‘ overstays its welcome, too cliche-ridden torcomtort. Mainly allecting, though. (Paul W. Hullah)

has an early Dexys leel. There’s reggae

V LIVE

THE CARDIACS

The Venue, Edinburgh, 18 Feb.

Never been one to encourage the support-band-as-sorry-descendants- ol-headliners mentality but, really, you could lit the population at China in the musical distance between The Cardiacs and The Last Minute. The latter’s well overlong set consists

mainly ol 3 sound as anachronistic as their haircuts; the sort ol hectic,

cluttered chaos that thanklully went out

with Pigbag and Dexy's. Only twice do

they veer lrom knees-up jollity — once with a patience-bleeding blues workout. and once, more lavourably, with a

blithering scramble ol improv

overdrive almost lit to lick the boots ot The Dog Faced Hermans. Still, their slim posse ol jiving chums can spot a decent skittering beat, and who am I to talk about haircuts anyway? A word in preparation lorThe

, Cardiacs. because despite the

' longevity ot their career they’re still

3 territory unsounded by the consuming

( masses: they’re weird, they’re obtuse, and they make no apologies. A lirst encounter means instant conversion or

automatic revulsion. Frontman Tim Smith boasts the kind oi deranged glinting eyes possessed by lledgling axe-murderers. You don’t meet his gaze EVER it you want to escape with your dignity intact. The rest of the band look like a borstal breakout entangled with the Rotary Club tea dance.

Musically, they hop between Oevo’s orchestrated electro eccentricity and Gong’s mock-epic meandering. They know a bit about structuring their set too, moving progressively from the staccato to the searing. ‘Day Is Gone’ is astounding — a wracked guitar edilice. ‘Ol The Land And The Sea‘ is wonky and dense and rattles your vertebrae. They encore with the gargantuan ‘ls This The Lite?’, welcomed like an old lriend come to dinner, an old lriend who proceeds to overturn the table and trample your chicken supreme into the carpet. We’d lorgotten what an awkward customer it was.

They end as they began: eyes tront, bodies rigid, three pairs 01 hands blurring overtheir strings. More quirks than Carstairs. They should be institutionalised — in every sense at the word. (Fiona Shepherd)

V BOOK NOW

Concerts listed are those at major venues, tor which tickets are on public sale at time at going at press.